The Bagpipes are Calling
by Karbonado
Summary: Everything seemed perfect until somebody had to ruin it with an awful noise. Everybody thinks it's Scotland, but is it...?


England sighed in content, seated comfortably outside his furbished patio of the Kirkland Estate with a _Complete Works of Shakespeare_ book in hand and a bracing cup of hot English tea. Across the table was a two-layer tea snack tray; the bottom layer had English sandwiches and the top had freshly baked scones in assortment of flavors and a lovely rose tea set.

Ah, yes. Everything was perfect.

America was busy doing whatever the heck he was doing (England did NOT want to know), France was busy making supper and his siblings had recently returned from visiting the fleshpots of Europe and were not bothering him; as for England, he had finally caught up with his work and received a well-deserved vacation.

Truly nothing could ruin this moment for him, England thought to himself, taking the steaming hot cup of tea to his lips.

Then suddenly a loud horrid screech ripped through the silent air, causing England to jump and simultaneously choke on and spew out his tea and dropping his tea cup. The tea very nearly escaped through his nostrils.

"Blimey!"

The terrible screech continued loudly. England stomped back into the manor, ready to commit homicide against the imbecile who had just decided to ruin his day of rest. As much as it causes his poor, mutilated ears to bleed, England recognizes the origin of the excruciating sound.

"Alasdair, you wanker," England screamed over the loud shrill. "I knew the bagpipes were blood horrid to listen to, but I never thought you could actually get any _worse_ playing them!"

Immediately France came into the room in worry and in visible pain while America was in his arms in agony. "Daddy, make it stop!" the poor colony wailed, his hands covering his ears; even his cowlick that defied gravity was drooping because of the noise.

"Mon Dieu," France cried. "Arthur, what is going on?!"

Instantly Ireland and Wales stormed into the room, a look of murder written all over the Irish nation's face. Wales was trying to calm his sibling down from the hang-over induced rage.

"Oi, Alasdair, you daft bugger," Ireland screamed. "I'll tan your hide if you don't stop playing!"

"Oi, whoever is making that racket, quiet down!" Scotland roared, stepping into the room with a crystal clear look of exasperation on his face. The rest of the nations paused and stared at Scotland. Scotland frowned. "…What?"

England's thick brows furrowed in confusion as his mind slowly began to process what was happening. "What? Wait, if Alasdair isn't the one playing, then who…?"

The nations begrudgingly followed the sound trail of the horrid noise to the music room. They pushed the doors open to be surprised at the culprit of the demonic sounds.

On the floor playing was _Canada_ hugging Scotland's bagpipes with his entire body, struggling to pump the bag filled with air while blowing into the reed and getting his fingers to reach the chanter with his tiny arms. His adorable chubby cheeks were puffed out and red from trying to produce a proper sound a professional bagpiper should make. The little colony did not seem to notice his family staring at him.

"Matthew?" England sputtered out in shock. Canada jumped at the sound of his English father and squeaked when he saw his family standing at the doorway appearing absolutely flabbergasted. The poor colony shied away in embarrassment.

While Scotland did not enjoy anybody touching his things, he was very curious why his (favorite) nephew was trying to play his bagpipes. England stepped forward and kneeled down to Canada. "Matthew, what are you doing with your uncle's bagpipes?"

The colony whimpered a bit before revealing his intentions. "V-vouloir…je v-veux…" he stuttered in French. The poor thing always gets nervous and reverts to French without thinking; that is what happens when you try to teach a child several languages practically at the same time.

"Matthew, love, English," England gently chided.

"Ah, I-I want to p-play…like Uncie Scott…" Canada replied shyly.

The nations blinked at the statement. "Why?"

"Je…" Canada paused, remembering his English. "Ah…I, uh…"

France made a face before realization dawned over him. "Oh! I understand!"

The other nations looked at France. "You do?"

"Oui!" the gorgeous Frenchman replied cheerfully. "Mon petit Mathieu simply adores his Uncle Alasdair! He tells me how much he wants to be like him when he grows up!"

Scotland's face turned somewhat flushed at the statement. His favorite nephew idolized him enough to want to be like him. He wanted to try playing the bagpipes as a start.

England's thick Kirkland brows furrowed. He looked back down at his Canadian son. "You want to play the bagpipes?" Canada nodded. England was going to ask why didn't he just ask, but realizes that the boy is unbelievably shy and never wants to impose onto anyone. "Then why don't you ask your uncle if he could teach you?"

Canada's pretty violet eyes sparkled before he cutely ran up to Scotland with an adorable look of determination on his face. He tugged on his uncle's pant leg. "Uncie, would you please teach me how to play the bagpipes?"

Scotland blinked before smiling down at his cute little nephew. He leaned down to pick him up. "Of course, Matthew; you'll be the best at playing the bagpipes!"

The rest of the nations smiled as Scotland began telling Canada the basics of the bagpipes. England sighed at the cute scene. "Just bloody fantastic," he muttered. "The bloody pipes are calling now." He said sarcastically.

* * *

 **Disclaimer: do NOT own.**

The ending wasn't necessarily what I wanted and I know I could have made it better, but I feel that I prolonged posting this fic up for too long. My apologies for being an absolute screw-up on the characters; I'm no good at writing other characters.

It was inspired by this weird but true event that happened outside of my house. I was just using the computer until I heard bagpipes playing. I found out that there was this guy playing the bagpipes outside my house for a good hour or so before stopping. During that time, I was thinking about Scotland and their bagpipes and I remembered how their traditions really impacted Canada so this was born.

My apologies for not updating. I am a very lazy person with very little motivation.


End file.
